


Posthumous

by mourntheantagonist



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Bisexual Steve Harrington, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Canonical Child Abuse, Coming Out, Depression, F/M, Gay Billy Hargrove, Gay Sex, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, Letters, M/M, Not Beta Read, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Post-Battle of Starcourt (Stranger Things), Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Recreational Drug Use, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:20:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26804275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mourntheantagonist/pseuds/mourntheantagonist
Summary: The books weren’t the most peculiar thing she saw in that cabinet. She noticed a small stack of envelopes resting atop the book pile in the back. She grabbed the stack and stared blankly at the top envelope.To Max.OR: Max finds a bunch of letters from Billy following the Battle of Starcourt.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Jim "Chief" Hopper, Billy Hargrove & Karen Wheeler, Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Billy Hargrove & Original Female Character(s), Billy Hargrove & Original Male Character(s), Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Eleven | Jane Hopper & Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Steve Harrington & Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Will Byers & Maxine "Max" Mayfield
Comments: 48
Kudos: 198





	1. One Week

**July 11th, 1985**

It has only been one week. 

Only one week since the entire party filled an empty Starcourt Mall. Empty for all but themselves, an interdimensional monster made from the flesh of Hawkins citizens, and a couple hundred Russians beneath their feet. One week since an all out fireworks show took place beneath the now shattered glass ceiling that enclosed the mall. One week since the gate was closed for the second time and the aforementioned interdimensional monster and all of its host victims died. One week since they were only seconds too late. Too late to save Hopper from the blast of the machine. Too late to save Billy. Too late to save him from having the Mind Flayer's clawed tentacle tongue skewer him straight through his ribcage. It has only been one week since Max had to witness her own brother take his last breath and utter his last words. Two words she knew were the hardest for him to say, even without a gaping hole running through his center and blood pooling at the back of his throat.

She promised him everything was going to be okay. She was wrong. 

Everyone is still mourning the loss of Hopper. Everyone sharing in their grief and healing as a unit. It didn’t make it easy, but it made it easier. 

Nobody mourned Billy, nobody except for Max. 

Neil reacted to the news of his own son's death with a cold and unchanging expression. He didn’t have a response. Just waved the police officer off. Everyone shows grief in different ways, so she wasn’t sure what to make of that. But she had a feeling that it wasn’t exactly what you would expect a father to feel after the loss of a child. Susan shed a few tears but moved on pretty quickly. She cried more when they put their cat down. The rest of the party was too caught up in Hopper's death to even remember Billy’s death let alone mourn him. But could she really blame them? It has only been a week.

But Max mourned. No. She broke. Into hundreds of little pieces. Trying her hardest to put herself pack together on her own. But all her attempts were failures because It still felt like a piece of her was missing, almost like the Mind Flayer ripped open a hole in the both of them. 

In the months following the incident at the Byers house, the two step-siblings finally started to get along. Okay, maybe getting along is too generous. But there was a mutual respect between the two, along with the rare sweet moments that happened between them where they both let their masks down and allowed themselves to be free with each other. It was getting better. Billy’s edges began to soften when he was around only her. Max had recently even heard Billy leave the ‘step’ out of her title, so she knew Billy saw it too. The opportunity to connect with her  _ brother _ was taken from her. It had always felt like a missing piece to her. No matter how shitty of a brother he was to her, there were always those little moments where he didn’t suck. Little things that would make her entire week. Sometimes her entire month. Like how he apologized with a new skateboard left on her bed to replace the one that broke. Billy showing her he cared, even a little bit, meant more to her than anything anyone else could do. 

So she mourned alone. She would slip into Billy’s room at night and spend hours crying under Billy’s covers, taking in every smell, feeling, and little detail. She was the only one who cared enough to remember him. She couldn’t let herself forget him too. She would wake up early and go back into her room before her parents woke up, put on a brave face, and head out into the world. Watching as everyone talks freely about their own grief while Max keeps her own to herself. Letting it fester.

She wants to talk about it. She needs to. But to who? Billy has left an impression on just about all of them, and not a good one. He beat up Steve and threatened Lucas, all while Dustin and Mike had to watch as he pummeled Steve’s face in. She can’t talk to El or Joyce because they have their own loss they have to deal with. She supposes she could talk to Will or Jonathan or Nancy, but they weren’t very close and probably have their own opinions on Billy Hargrove formed from others testimony.

Maybe if they had known the Billy Hargrove that she had known, it would be different. But they didn’t. She could wait it out, right? She has plenty of time to feel okay again. It’s only been a week.

——— 

  
  


**January 7th, 1985**

It’s only been a day.

It’s only been one day back at Hawkins High since winter break and he’s already in some kind of trouble. Although he doesn’t know what for. Must’ve done something to warrant his name over the loud speaker, summoning him to the principal's office. He was actually trying to be better. Ever since he’d seen Steve Harrington walking through the halls on that day in November adorning the black eye and split lip Billy had given him, he started to see it. He was becoming  _ him.  _ He couldn’t let himself turn into that. He promised himself he wouldn’t. But the mixtures of blue, purple, and red stared him down and made him sick. So he tried to be better. He had to be better. 

So he was disappointed in himself for having to make the familiar trek down to Mr. Harrison’s office. 

He walked through the glass doors leading into the main office and gave the secretary a wave as he made his way to the back. 

He walked into his office without a greeting, just plopped right into the “disciplinary chair” and asked “what I do this time?”

Mr. Harrison chuckled.  _ Interesting _ . Billy thought. Not exactly what he expected. “Surprisingly Mr. Hargrove, nothing to my knowledge”.

Billy felt a wave of relief wash over him. He hadn’t failed yet. “Care to tell me why I’m here then?” Okay so maybe “being better” didn’t include his attitude. He still had a reputation to uphold. 

“Well, Mr. Hargrove, we have a new staff member that is here that I would like you to get to know. She’s a psychologist and we asked some of the faculty if they knew of any students that might benefit from meeting her and your name came up”. 

Billy was taken aback by this. Someone actually thought he needed to see a psychologist. Like, someone actually saw beneath everything and knew. But what exactly did they know? 

Billy could feel his anger manifesting itself and he clenched his fists in hopes of stopping it.  _ Be Better.  _ “So someone out there thinks I’m crazy? You can’t force me to talk to her”.

Mr. Harrison’s face didn’t alter. “No one is calling you crazy. She’s not even that kind of psychologist. Someone just thought that maybe you could benefit having someone to talk to about whatever is going on in your life, whether that be school or family or what have you” Mr. Harrison heaved our a sigh. “and you’re right about one thing. I can’t force you to talk to her. But I hope you’ll at least give her a chance. Also, to sweeten the deal, just thought I’d let you know, this’ll get you out of class once a week and I hear she might even bring you food from off campus for when you meet.” Billy unclenched his fists and just stared at the wall behind Mr. Harrison as he thought it over in his head. So maybe he was curious. Maybe deep down he did want someone to talk to about shit. He could definitely go for missing his US History class for some actually good food.

“Fine,” he finally spoke “when?”

Mr. Harrison’s mouth upturned into a wide grin. “I was hoping you’d say that. She’s actually available right now if you’re up for it. I can walk you over and introduce you”. He was already getting up and leading the way before Billy had a chance to respond. 

The door was open and sitting at her desk was petite brunette woman. She couldn’t be more that thirty years old. She was getting up from her chair and walking towards the two men. “Mrs. Campbell, this is Billy Hargrove, he’s here to see you.” And that was Mr. Harrison’s brilliant introduction. He just patted Billy on the back and walked off. Leaving Billy awkwardly standing in the doorway.

“Please have a seat,” she gestured to the small couch that sat in the center of the room. The room was very brightly colored, but still maintained a sort of elegance to it. It looked less like a box of crayons exploded and more like a carefully crafted rainbow. “It’s so nice to meet you Billy, and you can call me Daisy. There’s no need for formalities here”. Billy slumped down on the green sofa while she closed the door and took a seat in the yellow chair that sat across from him. 

“I was promised I’d get out of class” a half truth. 

He expected her to be offended by the remark, but she just laughs. “Yeah I hear that a lot actually. Let me guess. American Literature?” Damn. She’s nice. 

“US History”. He responded bluntly.

“Oh really? I always really enjoyed history. But I guess it’s not for everyone.” She sounded so sincere with how she talked to him. Like she was genuinely interested in their conversation. Genuinely interested in Billy.

“I actually enjoy American Lit”.

Fuck. They were maybe one minute in and she already had him talking. She’s definitely good at her job. Billy thinks back and doesn’t remember ever actually sharing that piece of information with anyone before. Always afraid of what people would think of him. Guys weren’t supposed to like that stuff. They weren’t supposed to be good in school let alone enjoy it. But here he is opening up to a random stranger all because she was nice to him. Pathetic.

“That’s cool. Do you have anything you’re reading now that you enjoy. Maybe you might have some suggestions for me. My repertoire is pitiful if you haven’t noticed”. She gestures over to her very empty bookshelf in the corner of the room. 

“We’re reading Huckleberry Finn right now for class, but I’ve already read that. Right now I’m reading a book called The Chosen for my book report. You might like that one. They actually talk about psychology a little.” Somehow she’s got him from one word responses to becoming her own personal book reviewer. It’s a strange feeling. He can’t remember a time where he just talked this openly and honestly about anything. And it didn’t feel like she was interrogating him. He thought that she would just start right in on his deepest darkest secrets but here they were discussing literature. He liked the feeling of being open, but he needed to stop it before he got too comfortable.

“Why am I here?” He took advantage of the beat of silence and steered the conversation backwards.

She sighed and pursed her lips. He could tell she knew exactly what he was doing and he hated that. Hated that someone could see right through him. “Well Billy, you’re here because you want to be. No one is forcing you to stay. You can leave whenever you would like. I want you to know that” she breathed out another sigh “but I don’t think that’s what you meant. For that I can’t answer you. I asked that they didn’t tell me the reasons anyone was suggested to me. I want to get to know you and I think you should have a say in what I get to know about you. I think there’s a loss of trust when one person knows more about the other”. 

Billy’s heart began to race a little quicker and his palms began to sweat just a little. Why was he so nervous? Billy Hargrove. Resident bad boy. Shaking in his boots because some woman knows he’s hiding something. He can tell she knows. At least she doesn’t know what.

“Also, just to clarify. Nothing leaves this room unless you threaten harm to yourself or others. This is a safe place for you Billy.”

That struck a nerve. ‘unless you threaten harm to yourself or others’. It was the or others part that got him. Ask him to see her three months ago and that comment might have caused him to harm others. But he was trying to be better now. So confidentiality seems to be solid. Billy still scoffed and put his front back up. 

“You think I have something to hide?” 

Once again. She didn’t let it get to her. Just gave him a soft smile. “I think we all have something to hide. Everyone has skeletons in their closets. But it’s important that we have people to share them with. Can’t keep everything bottled up. Not healthy”.

He started to fold into himself on that one. She noticed. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything. If you want we could meet once a week and just sit here in silence. Or you can walk out that door and never come back here. It’s all up to you. You’re in control.” 

Before Billy could come up with a response the bell had rang. Signaling their time was up. He looks at her, unsure of what to do. 

“So? What do you think?” She asks. She wasn’t going to let him out of that one was she.

“I was told there will be food if I come again?” 

Her smile turned wide and excited. “Oh yeah! Here,” she’s handing him a post it note and a pen. “Write down what places you like and what you order. I’ll pick it up and we’ll meet next Monday? Same period?” 

He couldn’t help but let the side of his mouth twitch up into a half smile. “Yeah sure”. And just like that he was out the door. Mask back on. Fumbling through his pocket to grab a cigarette to calm his nerves. 

Maybe she could help him be better. He already felt different. 

And it’s only been a day.

———

**July 12th, 1985**

It hasn’t even been two weeks.

It hasn’t even been two weeks and Neil is already trying to get rid of Billy’s things. Somehow Max strikes up the nerve to confront him about it. It takes everything in her to not scream at him. Because how dare he? His son dies and in less than two weeks he’s already ready to just forget about him?

She doesn’t let that anger show. She’s as kind as she can possibly be without it seeming fake. 

“Do you think maybe we could wait a little longer? I guess I’m not ready to say goodbye yet”. Max wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready, but she opted not to tell him that part. Neil always has a soft spot for Max, most of that being due to him trying to impress Susan, but Max was willing and ready to use that to her advantage. 

“Okay kiddo. But I don’t want that stuff in this house for much longer”. Max couldn’t be sure but it almost seemed like Neil was scared of Billy’s stuff. It was weird and very out of character. But Neil pulled himself out of whatever trance he was in, rustled Max’s hair, and headed off to work.

Max made her way into Billy’s room and curled into his bed like she did every night. She looked around the room and noticed some of his things were already packed up in boxes. Things were moving too fast for her. She rose from the bed and started wandering around the room. If Neil was going to get rid of his stuff, she had to salvage some things. She looked around to see if there was anything worth keeping. 

At the top of one of the boxes she saw his denim jacket. The same denim jacket he wore almost every day. She picked it up and threw it on over her shirt. A little big on her but she wasn’t drowning in it. She thinks she’ll keep that. 

It felt kind of wrong. Going through his stuff. Even though she had done it literally only two days before he died, something about him being gone made it feel more wrong. But she needed to do this, so she pushed that feeling aside.

She started going through his cassette collection. Nothing she was really into, but she still grabbed a couple along with his Walkman. She moved on to his nightstand. The one where he keeps his objectifying magazines. Maybe there’s something else in there. She was always too disgusted whenever she opened it to investigate any further. 

She opens the drawer and the same mag is still there. Doesn’t know why she thought it’d be any different. She moves things around in the drawer. Nothing spectacular to be found, just a spare key, pack of cigarettes, and and unmarked VHS tape. She doesn’t think she wants to know what’s on it so she leaves it alone. She moves downward to the cabinet below on the nightstand to take a peak. She’s surprised when she sees it’s filled to the brim with books. They all look very worn. Like they’ve all been read more than once. She wasn’t sure Billy even knew how to read. This was shocking. 

However, the books weren’t the most peculiar thing she saw in that cabinet. She noticed a small stack of envelopes resting atop the book pile in the back. She grabbed the stack and stared blankly at the top envelope. 

_ To Max. _


	2. To Max

**January 14th, 1985**

Billy anxiously made his way through the following Monday. Both nervous and excited to see the psychologist during final period. He wouldn’t tell anyone that though. If anyone asks where he’s going, he’s already decided he would tell people he has detention and has to help out Mr. Harrison once a week. It shouldn’t be hard for anyone to believe Billy’s gotten in trouble. Tommy believed it.

The day, of course, seemed to move throughout time as slow as humanly possible. As soon as that bell long rang he neared sprinted his way to the office. He’d tell himself it was because he was ready to sink his teeth into a Big Mac. But even he knew that wasn’t the truth.

He walks past the secretary and aims straight for Daisy’s office. That feels weird. Calling her by her first name. Most of the times he doesn’t even call his own friends by their first names, let alone adults. He was taught to respect adults. Neil taught him that with his own special techniques. Billy would flinch whenever he heard the words respect and responsibility. He’s pulled from his thoughts as he takes in the delicious smell of fresh McDonald’s French fries coming from her office. He walks in, closing the door behind him, and takes a seat on the familiar green sofa. He sees before him two happy meal boxes sitting on the coffee table. 

Daisy finishes what she’s doing at her desk before she gets up to move to the chair across from Billy. “The one on your right is yours! Dig in!” She sits down and picks up her own. Picking up a single chicken nugget and eating it. Billy is a little confused at the happy meal part. How old does she think he is. People always thought he was older, not the other way around. “I hope you’re okay with the happy meal. I figured you already ate lunch and I wasn’t sure how hungry you would be”. Okay so she reads minds too. Noted.

Billy softens though. It was considerate. No one was ever considerate with him. Billy opens up his own box and stares into it. Noticing the Star Wars toy sitting on top of his fries. “You know I’ve never actually had a happy meal”. He says without looking up from his lap. 

Her eyes widen, but Billy doesn’t see this as he’s too entranced at plastic wrapped Wookiee staring him down. “How have you never had a Happy Meal?! They’re like a right of passage aren’t they?”

Billy just shrugs as he starts to unwrap his burger. “My family just never really ate out. Too expensive or some shit”. He says before he takes his first bite.

“Well I’m happy to share the experience with you. Feel any different now?” She raises her eyebrows at him and follows it up with a slight chuckle. 

They both eat their meals in mostly silence. Only Daisy ever making comments about her day. Billy stays quiet. 

“So, Billy. I would like to ask you some questions if that’s alright with you. Just a reminder that you’re in control of this conversation. If you don’t want to answer, just say so and we’ll move on to something else okay?” She says all of this as she moves their trash into the bin.

Billy just nods. He’s really afraid of what she’s going to ask. But he lets his curiosity win.

“You mentioned your family earlier. Tell me about them.” There it is. He wants to end the conversation right there. But that would be suspicious wouldn’t it? It’s not like she asked if his dad beats him. 

“I live with my dad, his wife and her daughter.”

“You don’t like them?”

“What?”

“You just called them ‘his wife and her daughter’ usually you would call them step-mom and step-sister.”

“They’re his family. Not mine. I don’t have to call them anything.” Billy shuts his eyes hard. Wincing like he’s in pain. Like her seeing right through him is causing him physical pain.

“I never said you had to. Just was curious. It took me a long time to start to even tolerate my step brother. Let alone like him.” So it wasn’t an attack. It’s going to take him a little time to get used to this. “How long ago did your dad remarry?” 

“Three years ago.”

“Yeah you’re doing just fine kid. It probably took me ten years before I actually called my step dad just ‘dad’. And it’s also okay if you never get there. You didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

They’re both just silent after that. This was all just so weird. It’s like she was taking his own jumbled thoughts and making them make sense. And not only that, telling him that they were okay thoughts to have. It felt weird. But it also felt so good. And yet he still felt so weak. This made him weak right? Real men deal with their issues on their own. Real men don’t see shrinks. Real men don’t talk about their problems. That’s what Neil always said. And wasn’t he a real man? He had to be right.

“What about your mom?”

Nope we’re not going there. We’re  _ never  _ going there. He was tensed up. Clenching his fists tight enough his fingernails will leave marks in his palms. 

“Change the subject.” He said through clenched teeth. 

She looked at him with sad eyes. It wasn’t pity though. He knew the difference. “That’s okay. Thanks for telling me to stop. I really don’t want to cross any boundaries ok? How about we go back to talking about your “dads wife” is that okay?”

He nods reluctantly.

“I know you don’t like her. But is she nice?”

He sighs. “It’s not that I don’t like her. I do. She’s a good cook and yeah she’s nice. She’s just not my family.”

“That’s good. That she’s nice. And I get it I think. Everyone expects you to just accept them as your family immediately. That’s just not fair.”

Billy smiles internally. He obviously isn’t going to let that show though. 

“How about her daughter? Do the two of you get along?”

“I was an asshole to her. Like grade A. But shit happened and I think things are better. I wouldn’t say we get along but we’re more cordial. I guess you could say I like her too. She’s a spitfire. A bit of a brat but, I don’t know. I don’t hate having her around I guess.” 

“Have you ever apologized to her? You know. For being a ‘grade A asshole’?”

That made him feel guilty. Because no. He hadn’t. Even worse he never even thought about it. He didn’t think he could. Sorry was not part of his vocabulary. At least not in the form of sincerity. 

“I guess I’ll take that as a no. Is that something that’s hard for you? Saying sorry?”

Billy doesn’t like where this is headed, so he stops her again. “Change the subject.” 

She frowned. Even if he didn’t actually answer her question. He did. “Okay Billy. Well we only have a couple more minutes so how about you let me talk to you. No questions. All you have to do is listen. Is that okay?”

“Sure”

“Alright. First I just want to say thank you for coming back. I like getting to know you Billy. Second, I know you know it’s my job to make observations so I want to share with you what I saw today. You can stop me at any point.”

He nods.

“You seem to have a lot that you want to say, but you’re stopping yourself. Opening up to people is challenging. I know. I’m not going to make you. I don’t like people forcing me to do things, I’m sure you don’t either. But I also think it’s harder to keep that stuff inside. So I have an assignment for you.”

His eyebrows furrow.

“Don’t worry. It’s not like… graded. You don’t even have to show me. Just something I think might help you.” She walks over to her desk and pulls out a small tin box. “I want you to write a letter to someone. Someone you have something to say to, but can’t. And you never have to send it. It’s better to tell someone what you’re feeling rather than no one at all. Even if that someone is a piece of stationary.” She holds out the box in front of him, waiting for him to accept it. 

To her surprise and his own, he accepts it. Shoving in into his backpack before getting up to leave. “Maybe” he offers before walking out the door. 

Daisy just smiles. That’s all she could ask for.

——

Max traces the outline of the envelope in her hands. She held it tightly. Trying to convince herself this was real. There is a letter addressed to Max hidden in Billy’s room. What did that mean?

Actually it was more than just a letter addressed to Max. There were actually three addressed to her. Along with the rest of the stack addressed to various other people. She sifted through the pile. She was shocked to see some of the names that appeared. 

_ To Max _

_ To Harrington _

_ To Lucas _

_ To Max _

_ To Mrs. Wheeler _

_ To Daisy _

_ To Hopper _

_ To Coach _

_ To Max _

_ To Steve _

_ To Dad _

  
  


Something in her stomach turned over as she read those names. She knew that she wasn’t supposed to see these. But the other part of her brain was thankful she found these before Neil. This felt so wrong. Even though they were for her she felt like she was violating some rule. Billy should’ve been able to give these to her himself. But he couldn’t. He’s dead and well… Max is curious. So she slips the stack of envelopes into the pocket of his jean jacket, and runs into her room. 

Max shuts the door behind her and locks it. She pulls out the envelope that was on top. The  _ To Max  _ staring into her soul. She hesitates before ripping it open. 

_ January 14th, 1985, _

That was almost exactly six months ago

_ I’m sorry.  _

The words hit her like a truck. Her mind racing back to Starcourt. Her body hovering over Billy as he struggles to breathe. As he uses his last words to apologize to her. She thought it was just for the mind flayer. He was apologizing for what he did while he was possessed. Maybe he was apologizing for more than just that. 

She focuses her attention back to the letter.

_ I have been a shitty step-brother. A shitty person. I deserved the needle in my neck and the nail bat between my legs. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell this to your face, that’s why I’m writing it down. _

_ This is so stupid. It’s not like you’ll ever read this. I’m too much of a fucking pussy.  _

She’s heard that word thrown at him a couple times from Neil. She didn’t like hearing it.

_ I’ve been seeing the school psychologist. _

Max’s eyes widen. Billy is the last person she ever would have thought would see a psychologist. 

_ She can see right through me Max. She knows I’m hiding things. There’s so much I want to say. There’s so much I want to tell you Max.  _

This is a tone she’s never heard from Billy. It’s so vulnerable. She glances down the page, seeing old tear stains in the margins. The sight of them causes her own eyes to well up with tears.

_ She told me to write it down. To say to you what I can’t say out loud. She asked me if I ever apologized to you. This is the best I can do Max. I’m so sorry. _

_ There’s so much you don’t know Max. So much I want to say. I’m so scared Max.  _

_ Look at me I can’t even write it down.  _

_ Pathetic.  _

Her own tears begin to leave stains of their own.

_ I want to tell you why we left California. The real reason. I want to tell you what happened to me. I want to tell you who I am. _

_ But I can’t. _

_ Maybe another time. _

And that’s where the letter ends. No signature. Just that. “Maybe another time.” Is that what’s in the other two letters? Before she can entertain the thought any longer she hears Dustin's voice come over the walkie.

“Max come in this is Dustin. Are you on your way? Over.”

Shit. She’s supposed to be at Mikes for the Live Aid party. 

She shuffles over to the walkie.

“Yeah I’m leaving now. Got stuck doing chores. Over.”

She takes the full stack of letters out of the pocket of Billy’s jacket and the opened letter and hides them underneath her comic books. She forgets to take off Billy’s jacket before she skates over to the Wheelers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The start to this fic is pretty slow but I hope you're enjoying it so far. I promise things will start to pick up soon. Let me know what you think and any of your expectations! I love reading comments so like... pls comment <3


	3. When There's a Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I figured you were all just as impatient as I am and I decided to post chapter 3 early. I am currently in the process of rereading and tweaking some things so expect chapter 4 no later than Oct. 6th! Maybe I'll get it done early and post it tomorrow. We'll see! This is kinda filler but still really important. Things are going to start to pick up speed in the next chapter. I hope you enjoy. Comments and Kudos are really REALLY appreciated <3

Max enters the Wheeler's through the front door, greeted by none other than Mrs. Wheeler herself. 

“It’s so good to see you here Maxine. I know things have been hard since Billy passed, how are you holding up?”

This is the first time anyone has asked her about Billy. Who would’ve thought it’d be Karen Wheeler. Maybe she should have expected it. Billy had written her a letter. Although she can’t seem to figure out why.

She puts that thought away. “I’m okay. Thanks. Is everyone already in the basement?”

Karen smiles at her. “Yeah go ahead and head down there. Dinners almost ready so I hope you’re hungry.”

“Thanks Mrs. Wheeler.” She says before turning down the stairs into the Basement. 

Everyone is already there. Mike and El are sat on the couch huddled close to one another. Dustin and Will are on the floor. Lucas is sitting on the couch beside Mike, gesturing to the open space he must have saved just for her. She walks over and sits down beside him, bringing her feet up and resting her head on his chest, mirroring that of Mike and El. 

They’re watching the Star Wars trilogy for what is probably the one hundredth time. Mike’s “my house my rules” always comes into play whenever anyone complains. She thinks this one is Empire Strikes Back. They all seemed to blend together so she was never really able to tell. Mike would probably throw a tantrum if she were to ask. Normally she would love to get a rise out of the Wheeler boy, but she wasn’t in the mood right now.

“Are you cold?” She’s pulled from her own thoughts by Lucas. 

“Huh?”

“You’re wearing a jacket in July. Do you need a blanket?” 

“I’m comfortable right now. All good.” She wasn’t. She was actually sweating a little under the denim. But she couldn’t bring herself to take it off. He accepted it. Didn’t ask any more questions. 

She wishes he would. She wishes he would notice that this is Billy’s Jacket. She wishes he would notice how much pain she is in. She wishes he would ask her about Billy. Because she isn’t going to bring it up herself.

Just as the movie is coming to an end she hears Mrs. Wheeler’s voice shout at the group from atop the stairs. 

“Dinner’s Ready!”

Nobody says a word, everyone just files up the narrow staircase and takes a seat at the dining table. She made lasagna. That was Billy’s favorite meal that Susan cooked. But Susan’s Lasagna did not hold a candle to that of Karen Wheeler's. Max wonders if Billy has ever tried Mrs. Wheeler's lasagna. It’s not until Mrs. Wheeler points it out that she realizes she’s just been pushing the food around on her plate.

“Are you feeling okay sweetheart?”

Max looks down at the food and feels a little sick. Can’t stop thinking about Billy. “Sorry. I’m okay. I had a big lunch.”

Mrs. Wheeler offers her a smile. No one else at the table seems to be paying any mind to their conversation. “That’s alright Maxine. You want me to take that for you?” She offers out a hand. 

“No thank you. I’ve got it.” She says as she gets up from the table and takes her plate over to the sink. She doesn’t notice Will follow her.

“Isn’t that Billy’s jacket?” 

His voice coming in over the sound of the faucet startles her. She doesn’t turn around to face him. Just continues rinsing her plate.

“Yeah.”

Will walks closer to her. Slowly and carefully he takes the already cleaned plate from her hands and turns the water off. She doesn’t move. That’s when he hugs her. 

It’s quick, but long enough for her to warm up from his touch.

“Everyone has been so preoccupied with Hopper, they all seem to have forgotten you lost your brother. I’m sorry.” Max tries her hardest to keep her tears from falling. But she’s forced to watch as one falls from her lash and onto the tile floor beneath her. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.” And with that he leaves the kitchen. Max wipes away her tears and hopes no one can tell she was crying. 

———

Everyone is asleep in Mike's basement. Everyone except for Max. This is the first night she is sleeping somewhere other than Billy’s bed and she can’t get any rest. The only thing keeping her comfort is the denim jacket she’s clutching to her chest. She’s watching the clock as time ticks by. From what she can see in the darkness it appears to be approaching three in the morning. Everyone was planning on getting up at 6:30am since the concert starts at 7. Maybe Karen will let her drink some coffee. 

She thinks about what Will said to her. Maybe she should talk to him. She would right now if he was awake. Her tired mind just might let her get it out.

Somehow she must’ve thought it into existence as she watched Wills body emerge from out of his sleeping bag and tiptoe to the bathroom. 

Max ponders everything for a second before following him and waiting outside the door. It takes less than a minute for him to emerge, her presence more than likely startling him.

She just stands there and stares at him. Still clutching the jacket, thinking over how she wants to say this. 

Will speaks first. “Did you need to use the bathroom?” 

Max looks down at her feet and grips the denim material harder. “No, um… you said that we could like, talk? Can we- can we talk?”

Even in the dark she could see Will’s eyes soften. “Yeah. Of course. Do you want to go upstairs?”

“Yeah.” She says almost silently.

Will guides her up the stairs and into the living room. They’re surprised to see that Mr. Wheeler is vacant from his La-Z Boy. The two sit down on the sofa and they’re both silent. Neither sure of how to start.

This time it’s Max who speaks first.

“He left me a letter.”

“Billy?”

“Yeah.”

“What did it say?” There’s a beat. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Max took a deep breath. “He apologized. For everything. For how he treated me. Then he said some stuff about how there’s so much he wants to say. But he’s too scared to. Something about California. About something that happened to him.” _About who he is?_ She leaves that part out.  


“Wow.”

“There’s more.”

“More to the letter?”

“No. There are more letters. Two more for me. Then a few for some other people.”

“Who else?” 

“One for his dad. Um. One for Lucas. Two for Steve... I think I remember seeing Hopper. I can’t remember them all. There were some names I didn’t recognize.” She thinks back. Wracking her brain trying to figure out who Daisy was. A girlfriend maybe?

“What did the other two letters say?”

“Dunno. Haven’t read em yet.”

“Why not?”

“Had to be here.”

“What do you think they’ll say?”

“I don’t know. Maybe some of that stuff he wanted to tell me.”

“Why do you think he wrote them? It doesn’t seem like Billy.”

“He said, in the letter, something about a psychologist. She said he should write letters to people he had stuff to say to.”

“That makes sense.”

“You think him seeing a psychologist makes sense? Billy is the last person I ever thought would actually talk to someone about his feelings.”

“No not that. That part is still a little strange to think about. Just… the names you mentioned. It makes sense he’d have something to say to them.”

She thinks back to the night at the Byers house. Maybe that’s what they were. Maybe he was apologizing to Steve and Lucas for that night. Maybe that was too optimistic. She likes to think that that’s the answer though. So yeah Steve and Lucas make sense. 

“But what about Hopper and the rest of the names. I didn’t even know Billy knew Hopper. And why would Steve need two?” 

“He got into trouble a lot right? Maybe that’s it. And he nearly killed Steve. That might warrant more than one letter. But I don’t know.” 

She accepts that might be true. But she can’t help but feel like one being addressed to ‘Harrington’ and one being addressed to ‘Steve’ might have some meaning behind it.

“Do you think you’ll give everyone their letters?”

Max didn’t even think about that. There were almost ten other letters. How would she even approach that. Was that even okay?

“Don’t you think that’s like, and invasion of his privacy? He never intended for anyone to read them. I shouldn’t have opened it.”

Will rested his hand on top of her own. “Max. It’s okay. It sounds to me that he wanted people to know these things. He said it himself. He was scared. Maybe we should give his voice a chance to be heard. That chance was taken from him.”

The more she thinks about it, the more she wonders whether Billy actually wanted Max to find them. The hiding place wasn’t that great. And Billy was really good at hiding things. He knew Max was a snoop. If he didn’t want her to find them why wouldn’t he hide it better. And why would he write her name on the envelope?   


Okay. Maybe he actually did want her to read it. 

“Okay. Maybe you’re right. Do you think you could maybe, help me? Hand them out I mean.”

“Of course I’ll help Max. Anything you need. I’m here.”

The conversation ended after that as they both yawned. A signal that they should probably get back to sleep.

Max felt much more at ease after talking to Will, she still couldn't get Billy out of her thoughts, but she could finally rest with them there. Still she was able to sleep this time. Clutching the jacket like before. Dreaming about nothing before waking up two and a half hours later by a screaming Henderson. She pushed Billy to the back of her mind and tried to enjoy the day with her friends. Nursing the cup of coffee Mrs. Wheeler gave to her. She tried her best to just focus on the concert. Which was hard to do as many of his favorite bands took the stage at some point. She wished she could just shut off her brain for a couple of hours.  


But she couldn’t stop thinking about what was in those other two letters.


	4. Max 2.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a much longer chapter so I split it up. I think there's more than 10 chapters in this fic I haven't divided them up yet. Hope you enjoy.

Max nearly wipes out on her way back home that night. She can be reckless when she has somewhere to be. She walks through the front door without a word. Just goes straight to her room to find the letters. Luckily her parents were already asleep so she didn’t have to worry about either of them barging in. 

She practically throws all of her comic books out of their place to get to the letter. Patience was not one of Max’s strong suits. She finds the stack. Secured by a rubber band. She picks out the letter in the middle, figuring they’re probably in the order in which he wrote them. 

She stares at it for a second. She’s having second thoughts. Third thoughts. So many thoughts. Billy was scared to share this stuff with her. Max was scared too. Max was scared because she had no idea what might be in that letter. She could come up with so many horrible things. Things she would never want to know. But she opens the letter anyway, practically destroying the envelope in the process. 

_ March 27th, 1985 _

_ Max, I want you to know what happened in California. _

———

**January 21st, 1985**

It’s Billy’s third time going to see Daisy, and today he is not in the mood. Just the night prior, Neil had chewed him out for being late to dinner. Billy had been hanging out with Tommy and Carol and lost track of time. The good news was, Neil opted to keep his hands to himself this time and instead decided taking the Camaro from him for the week would suffice. Neil dropped Max off at school while he was forced to walk. Typical. 

He could just not go and see her. That was always an option. But he  _ really _ wasn’t in the mood to hear Mrs. Puck talk about The Great Depression. So he turned towards the main office and sat down on the same green sofa. 

Daisy could sense he was in a mood. 

“Bad day?” 

“Sure”

“You want to tell me about it?”

“No.”

He was being rude. To anyone else that wouldn’t bother him, but he felt so wrong speaking to her like that.

“Okay. I have pizza, you like pepperoni right?”

Now he felt even more guilty. But that didn’t stop him from nodding his head and accepting the slice. 

“Did you do the assignment I mentioned?”

Yes. He did it immediately. But he wouldn’t tell her that. “I might’ve.” He offered instead. In between bites of his pizza.

“Well if you did, I hope it helped. And I hope you’ll tell me about it when you’re ready.” Sometimes her kindness was annoying. On a day like today, where he just wanted to punch something, it was really annoying.

“Can we just not talk? I’m only here because I didn’t want to sit through history class, alright?” Maybe this was Billy just trying to sabotage things. God knows he does that a lot. But this woman would not let him would she?

“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I told you that before. I meant it.” She had a little smirk appear on her face before she continued. “However, we can just sit here and do nothing, or we could do something else that doesn’t involve talking.” 

She got up from her chair and walked over to her desk. That was an innuendo right? That was definitely an innuendo. What else could she possibly be talking abou -

He was pulled from his thoughts as the pack of cards and a small pile of pennies hit the table. “You know how to play ten pennies?”

———

There they were. Twenty minutes later and 2 of 6. Billy wasted half his pennies during the previous round and is stuck with a hand full of jokers yet no 2 of 6. He eyes her as she picks up a card from the desk and laughs. “I’m so sorry Billy.” She says as she begins to lay down all but one of her cards on the table and promptly discarding the final one. 

“That’s plus 265 for me. What do you got?” Fucking bitch.

“minus 315” he says with a grunt. Chucking his cards onto the table. 

She giggles as she tallies up their final scores. As if it’s not obvious who won after that pathetic round. 

“Yeah, looks like I’ve got you beat by more than 500 points Billy. Sorry should have mentioned before we started that I’m somewhat of a pro.”

Billy scoffed. “Whatever. I’ll get you next time.”

“Will there be a next time Billy?”

Billy exhaled harshly. But offered a slight smile. “Yeah. There’ll be a next time.”

And with that the bell rang. They always seemed to have perfect timing every time they met. Billy got up from the sofa and started helping her clean up the cards and then grabbed his backpack and started heading for the door. But he halted before his hand met the knob.

“Daisy?” He turned around to look at her. His left hand shaking from the nerves.

“Yes, Billy?”

“You were right. It helped.” 

He was out the door before she could respond.

———

Max stares at the date of the letter.

_ March 27th, 1985.  _ Over two months in between the letters. It took him that long to find the courage to tell her. 

_ Max, I want you to know what happened in California. _

_ Whatever reason my dad or Susan gave to you for us moving was a lie. We left because of me. _

Neil had told her it was a promotion, but the more she thinks about it. What kind of promotion moves you from California to Indiana?

_ There’s so much you need to know for this to make sense. This is a long story. Something in me hopes you’ll find this letter. I know you go through my shit. I’ll never be able to say this stuff out loud. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to know.  _ _ I’m just scared.  _

_ It starts with my mom. _

———

**February 11th, 1985**

Billy’s been going to see Daisy every week for over a month now. It’s getting easier. He thinks so at least. Last week they talked about school and how Billy is secretly really good at it. She asks him why he doesn’t share that with people. He doesn’t answer. It’s still the same little dance. Her asking him questions. Him refusing to answer, despite him really wanting to.

Him and Max had a little bit of a breakthrough over the weekend. Her and Lucas had got into some argument – he doesn’t remember exactly what about – and Billy decided to play big brother and took her to get ice cream. They didn’t talk too much, but he could tell that it helped to get her mind off of Sinclair for a little bit. Billy thinks he might tell Daisy about it.

The day went on as it usually did. No surprises. He had a chem test that he forgot about but other than that nothing exciting happened. Weird shit happened almost every day in California. He went to a very large high school with a very diverse set of kids. Being thrown into small town Hawkins where the juiciest gossip was about some kid getting caught drinking at the quarry was definitely an adjustment.

Something Billy found interesting about Hawkins though is that despite popular belief, California did not have nearly as many house parties. The difference between Hawkins and California is that there’s actually stuff to do in California. Places to go. People to see. There’s a lot of options. What was there to do in Hawkins other than throw a party when your parents left town? The answer to that question is not fucking much. 

That’s why it wasn’t surprising to find an invitation to a Valentine's Day party inside of his locker. The big and bold “Singles Only” staring him right in the face. This was a party designed for hookups. Billy felt queasy thinking about it. Despite what his reputation might say about him. Billy hadn’t really got around with the girls at Hawkins High. Only ever made out with a couple. The rest were merely arm candy. The prospect of hooking up with a girl was not something Billy ever wanted to entertain.

There was never any revelation when it came to him being gay. No sudden aha moment. It just was. He knew he was gay before he knew what being gay was. Before he knew it wasn’t a good thing. When he learned that piece of information at the age of 7 he figured he must like girls then. That’s what he was supposed to like. He wasn’t a bad person so he wasn’t like those other people. He convinced himself that everyone got the same butterflies in their stomach when a cute boy looked their way. He mistook friendship for love and vice versa. It wasn’t until his mom had left and he had reached high school that he was educated on how he had it all backwards. So maybe he didn’t know he was gay all along per se. But it wasn’t a shock when he learned the difference. It was terrifying but it wasn’t surprising.

There are only a handful of people who know that piece of information about him. Neil being one of them.

Billy would be lying if he said he hadn’t considered adding Daisy to the very short list.

He truly had no actual reasons not to tell her. He didn’t have to worry about her blabbing. She’s made that abundantly clear. All the reasons point back to fear. Fear of rejection. Fear of hearing the words come out of his mouth. He’d never actually said it out loud before. 

Point is though, Billy wasn’t going to benefit going to this party. This wasn’t California. This was Hawkins. No queer person will ever leave the closet before leaving the shithole first. It’s not like Billy could judge. He didn’t even have the strength in sunny California where few people would even bat an eye. 

The sad truth is that Billy definitely would be going to the party. He had to at least make an appearance. All he had to do was show up, get plastered, and pretend to enjoy the ladies of Hawkins Indiana staring at him like some piece of meat. Maybe even make out with one of them before coming up with some elaborate excuse to get out of doing anything. All he had to do was threaten to vomit. Worked like a charm. Especially because no girl would ever admit that happened. “He was so repulsed by me that he nearly threw up!” No girl would ever say that. Instead they’d come up with some elaborate lie about how he went down on her or some shit. 

So Billy makes note of the time written on the flyer, crumpled it up, and shoves it into his backpack. He follows the smell of fresh fried chicken all the way to Daisy’s Office.

Billy says hi as he walks in. Quickly going over to the famous red and white striped bucket and preparing himself a plate. Maybe he’s gotten a little too comfortable. He’s too hungry to care.

“Save me a leg! I’m too lazy to try and work my way through a thigh right now.” She speaks up with a laugh. Billy’s plate might give with the weight he’s applied to it. He skipped lunch today. Don’t judge.

The two sit down in their usual seats and begin their feast. Billy pretends to act offended as he watches Daisy set the chicken bone down on the plate with plenty of meat still attached. What a waste.

“So Valentine's Day is coming up. I never asked if you’re seeing anyone.”

“Nope. Single.” He says with a mouthful of potatoes.

“You have any plans then?”

“Going to this singles party thing.” 

“That sounds fun. Although you don’t seem to agree.” He’d gotten increasingly more used to that. He somewhat liked that she was so good at reading expressions. He could tell her stuff without actually having to say anything. Just the way he liked it. 

“I’m not exactly the romantic type.” That was a lie. If the circumstances were different Billy would have the whole 9 yards as far as cheesy romantic shit goes. But that wasn’t on the table for people like him.

“Why go to the party then?”

“A party‘s a party.”

“I can accept that.” She says with a laugh.

Billy’s aware he blew an opportunity to open up. He’s just not ready yet. Can’t get the words out if he tried.

“Have you done any more writing recently?”

“Yeah, a couple.” He’d written apologies to Sinclair and Harrington following the letter to Max. It felt like the natural progression.

“You wanna tell me about em?”

“I apologized to this guy for beating him up a while back. I got him real good. Took things to far.”

“Why’d you beat him up?”

“He hit first. I wasn’t in a good mood. Needed to punch something. His face seemed to suffice.”

Her eyes narrowed at him. “And you never apologized?”

“No. Not to his face. Not like he’d accept it anyway. I say what’s the point.”

“Don’t you want him to forgive you? You wrote him a letter after all.”

“I mean yeah.”  _ Of course I do  _ “He won’t though. Not like he liked me before.”

“Do you like him?”

She probably didn’t mean it that way. No. She didn’t mean it that way. Anyway it’s not like Billy likes Steve Harrington that way anyway. Right? Why did his heart lurch when she asked? 

“Can we change the subject?” 

“Of course.” She twiddled her fork in between her middle and ring finger. “You think you might be up to answering some personal questions? Different topic of course.”

Billy was reluctant to nod his head. He said he would try. 

“Can we talk about your mom?”

He doesn’t know he’s surprised that’s where she goes with it. It was a toss up between that and his Dad. Maybe he should be glad it’s not about his Dad. Means she doesn’t suspect anything just yet. Still he can feel it in his stomach just thinking about  _ her. _

“What about my mom?”

“Tell me a little bit about her.”

“Like what?” He was stalling.

“What’s your favorite memory with her.”

He doesn’t have to think too hard to know the answer. It’s a memory that has been stuck to the forefront of his mind ever since it happened. Like a scar on the mind he just couldn’t make go away.

“At the beach. She taught me how to surf. It was just her and I. Nothing special happened. Just a good day.”

“That’s nice.”

Billy let himself smile at the memory. 

“Did good days not happen all that often Billy?”

His smile was quick to disappear.

“Change the Subject.”

———

**July 13th, 1985**

_ It starts with my mom. _

_ Dad would never let me talk about her, but she was so perfect Max. She taught me to surf. She was so beautiful. You would have loved her.  _

_ Dad and her seemed to really love each other at first. But that changed when he came back from the war. He was always suspecting her of cheating on him and things suddenly became violent. They didn’t love each other anymore. So she left. She left me with him. _

_ He quickly started aiming for me. He blamed me for her leaving. Told me she didn’t want to raise a pussy. My mom stopped answering phone calls after two weeks. I haven’t heard from her since. _

_ The first time he hit me was over spilled milk. _

Max remembers back to when they were younger. Max had spilled her juice all over Neil's carpet. She remembers Billy freaking out and trying to clean it up. It’s only now that she remembers the tears in his eyes.

_ It was never too bad. He’d slap me here and there. Sometimes whip out the belt. But he never drew blood. Rarely left a mark. Said no one would believe me without proof. _

_ Things got worse when he married your mom. I felt like I had to protect the two of you from him. I really tried. It was a wasted effort because somehow everything circled back to me. You were late? My fault. Susan burnt dinner? My fault. All of a sudden I was getting three times the beatings.  _

Max remembers all those times where Susan would drag her into her room and the music in Billy’s room would blast. Susan would spend the whole time convincing max that the banging was just them dancing. Sometimes wrestling. How did she not see it?

  
  


_ I was willing to take the beatings as long as it meant he wouldn’t lay a finger on you or Susan.  _

_ There were a couple really bad ones. A couple where I was left with a black eye or a cut. Dad bought me the Camaro after a particularly bad beating. _

_ The worst happened just before we left.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are beginning to pick up steam!!! Let me know what you think. Chapter 5 will be up soon.


	5. Max 2.5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little bit ✨ spicy ✨ so be warned!!! Also my first time writing smut so please be nice :)

**February 14th, 1985**

Billy showed up almost an hour late to the party. He was surprised to see that it hadn’t yet turned into an all out orgy session with that many single people in one room. Billy’s plan was to just make an appearance, get wasted, and ditch. He’d make the excuse that the party was lame or something of that nature. He walked through the front door and was greeted by a stumbling Tommy H. Kid had probably had at least half a case judging by how the majority of his weight was resting on Billy’s right shoulder. Tommy pressed a Miller to his chest and mumbled something Billy failed to understand due to the slurring.

Luckily for Billy, Carol took the wasted idiot with her into the living room. Billy opened his beer can and chugged it before making his way into the kitchen for something stronger. He wondered why Tommy and Carol had shown up. Last he checked they were still together. Then again, the two never missed a party, them actually being invited was never a condition.

Billy found a bottle of tequila in the cabinet above the fridge and poured a decent amount of it into a solo cup, topping it off with some sprite he found in the fridge.

He made his way through the party, striking up several conversations with some very drunk girls who could only talk to him with all the liquid courage they’d ingested. After the last girl nearly puked all over his shoes, he decided that was his cue to ditch. 

He walked out the front door and made his way to his car. He was surprised to see none other than Steve Harrington sitting on the curb with his head between his legs.

“You alright amigo?”

“Beat it Hargrove, ‘m not in the mood.”

Billy wasn’t about to take orders from Steve Harrington. He’d told him that just before he nearly killed the guy. So instead of walking the extra twenty feet to his car, Billy sat down on the curb right beside him, fumbling for a cigarette and a lighter. 

“The hell dude? I thought Max told you to leave us alone.” 

“Relax, I’m not gonna do anything. Probably shouldn’t drive for a little bit and I don’t want to be in there while I sober up.” It was a good excuse. Mostly truthful. Just opted to leave out the part where he enjoys Steve’s company. “Want a smoke?” 

Steve scoffs and begrudgingly accepts the cigarette, bringing it to his lips as Billy lights it for him. “It’s only like 9 o’clock. Why are you already leaving?” Smoke leaves his mouth along with the question.

“I could ask you the same thing pretty boy. No ladies what a piece of ol’ King Steve?” 

“Would you drop it with the “King Steve” crap?” Steve took another drag and exhaled with a sigh. “Tommy dragged me here. Said I needed a rebound. I’m not interested in a rebound.”

“Still not over the princess I see.”

“She’s happy. I’m happy for her. I’m just not ready to get my heart broken again.”

“You don’t have to fall for a girl to bang her. Shit, wasn’t that what this whole fucking party was about?”

Steve let out a laugh. “Yeah, hard to do that with you around looking like that!”

Billy felt his stomach flutter at the comment. “You like what you see Harrington?”

“Shut the fuck up. I have eyes dude. You’re objectively good looking. Don’t have to be a chick to know that.” Steve puts out his cigarette on the pavement. “Anyway, you’re one to talk. Always calling me ‘pretty boy’ and shit.”

“Fine. Fair enough.”

“So what about you? None of the chicks ogling you in there meet your standards?”

Billy doesn’t notice it happen until he can feel the heat of Steve’s breath on his face. They’re close. Too close. 

“They’re not my type.” 

Steve’s hand inches closer to where Billy’s rests on the sidewalk. Billy can feel the tequila betray him as his body lurches forward and his lips are planted onto Steve’s. The kiss is rough and messy. Steve pushes Billy away quickly.

Billy can feel his breath catch in his throat. He feels seconds away from vomiting. He just royally screwed up didn’t he? What is he supposed to do? What the fuck is he supposed to do? Why was his brain going straight to “punch him”?

Steve speaks before Billy has the chance. 

“Not here. Let’s go somewhere else.” There’s a devilish smirk on his face and Billy nearly implodes one himself.

That’s how he found himself in the passenger seat of Steve’s car awkwardly trying to conceal his erection as they made the short trek to Steve’s house. The two don’t say a word the whole way there. They even keep at least two feet of distance all the way up to the front door of his house. It’s when Billy hears the loud thud of the door slamming shut that he finds himself between a wall and Steve Harrington. 

Steve kisses him like he’s hungry. Taking no time before exchanging tongues. Billy puts his hands on the others hips and pulls him closer. He can feel Steve’s dick hard against his. Steve is tugging at his hair. Billy decides that he likes that. He really fucking likes that. 

Steve moves his hands down Billy’s back and pulls him away from the wall and towards the couch. Their lips only separated for a short moment. It’s Billy who pushes Steve down onto the sofa.

Billy climbs on top. A leg on either side. They start to make out again while Steve begins to work at Billy’s shirt. It’s only half buttoned so it doesn’t take too long. Billy slides his hands underneath Steve’s tee. The two separate for a moment while Billy pulls it over Steve’s head and yanks off his own the rest of the way. 

Steve’s hands come back down from above his head and begin to gently trace the length from his chest to his belt. 

Billy moves from Steve’s lips to his neck, earning a quiet moan leave Steve’s lips as he bits down on the soft skin. Billy begins to move downward from his neck to his waistline, leaving a trail of marks along the way. He undoes Steve’s button and yanks his pants down, taking his underwear with them. Steve’s dick bobs free and he’s already leaking. Billy looks back up at Steve to see a slight blush creep onto his cheeks.

Billy stares at Steve’s cock for a second too long. His confidence wavering. 

“Never done this before.” Billy says shyly.

“S’okay. Me neither.” Steve replies with shaky breaths.

Billy knows Steve meant “with a guy”. That’s not what Billy meant. He chooses not to offer up that piece of information.

Billy does to Steve what he thinks will feel good. With no experience it’s hard to tell exactly what that is. Slowly he drags his tongue on the underside of Steve’s cock, beginning near the base, before taking the head into his mouth. 

He knew a little of what he was doing. He’d watched stolen tapes with friends before. 

He circled his tongue around the tip, tasting Steve in the process. The sensation made his own dick twitch. Billy brought a hand to the shaft and twisted as he took Steve in deeper. 

Steve groaned as Billy performed. His hands clawing at Billy’s back leaving trails of pinkish red. 

Billy struggled going much deeper. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen Steve’s dick as they’d showered after practice together. He knew of Steve’s solid length, but it seems much longer when it’s shoved down your throat. Billy was definitely clumsy, but Steve didn’t seem to notice. Billy opts to focus more at the tip with his tongue and work the shaft with both hands. This earns several expletives from Steve.

“Fuck. Billy! M’close.” 

Billy continues working at the tip and can confirm. He can taste Steve’s come slowly pooling into his mouth. He grazes the head slightly with his top teeth and Steve’s hips buck upward before cumming into Billy’s mouth and Billy swallows.

Steve is in a daze, staring up at the ceiling as he comes down from his orgasm. Billy moves upward to plant a kiss on Steve’s lips. He moves his tongue inwards to give Steve a taste of himself. Steve pulls away for a split second to spit in his hand. He pulls Billy back in by the nape of his neck and wedges his coated hand into Billy’s jeans below his underwear. Steve slowly strokes Billy’s cock as Billy tries to continue to kiss Steve. He moans into his mouth as Steve’s thumb brushes the tip. Billy’s been threatening release since they walked through the door, so it’s not long before Billy is spilling into his own pants and breathing heavily into Steve’s open mouth.

“Fuck. Sorry.” Billy says between ragged breaths.

Steve just smiles into another quick kiss. He places a hand on Billy’s right cheek, his thumb tucked in front of his ear. “That was so fucking hot. Nothing to be sorry for.” He says before he pulls Billy back in and finally removes his sticky hand from Billy’s pants. He wipes his hand on his shirt that sat behind him, but not before taking a finger into his mouth to taste Billy.

The two make out for what is probably another ten minutes before Billy finally removes his weight from on top of Steve. 

Billy’s standing there and Steve can’t seem to take his eyes away from the wet spot on his crotch. “Think I could borrow some clothes?” His voice is quiet. Steve thinks he’s never see Billy so small as he watches him wince through the words and his hand twitch from the nerves. 

“Yeah sure uh… you can use my shower if you like.”

“Um, okay… thanks.”

It was weird to see Billy going from sucking his dick to being this shy about a little cum stain. Steve wasn’t gonna lie. It was kind of adorable.

Steve led Billy up the stairs to his bathroom. He grabbed a pair of jeans, underwear, and a towel and left him alone. The exchange’s were very awkward. Billy seemed absolutely terrified. Perhaps Billy was far more sober than Steve. Steve was going to have a hard time convincing himself this wasn’t a dream come morning.

Billy lets the water fall over his face as he tries desperately to control his breathing. He can’t shut his brain off. He can’t stop thinking about what his Dad would do if he found out. Not just what he might do to him, but what he might do to Steve. He swore to himself that he wasn’t going to do this again while he still lived under his father’s roof. He couldn’t let it happen again.

The warm water manages to calm Billy down enough to exit the bathroom. He puts the clothes Steve gave him on and finds Steve in his bedroom sitting on his bed like he’s been waiting for him.

“Wanna get stoned?” He asks, holding out a joint he pulled out of nowhere.

“I gotta be home by eleven”  _ or my dad will beat my ass. _

“S’only ten” he says as he brings the joint to his lips. “You gonna let me get high alone?” He makes a stupid pout. 

“Fuck off. Give it here.” He gives in, plopping onto the edge of the bed beside him.

The two sit in silence as they each take long drags. Smoke fills the room and Billy can feel his eyes start to burn. 

“Y’know,” Steve breaks the silence. “no one’s ever blown me before.”

“So what’s my score?”

“Better than my own hand that’s for fucking sure.”

Billy let out a shy laugh. 

“You know, out of everyone in Hawkins you’re the last person I’d’ve thought would be… y’know…” His hands gesture randomly.

“Yeah. Pretty surprised about you too.” He takes another drag.

“So am I.” 

“Huh?”

“Never really thought about it before tonight. Still like girls. But I definitely liked this. Don’t know what that makes me.”

“Bisexual.”

“Bicycle? What?”

“No shithead. Bisexual. Means you like both.”

Steve’s eyes get a little wider at the realization. “Shit. You learn that in California or something.”

“Yeah. There’s a bigger world outside of this shithole.”

Steve smiles. “Thanks. Are you also… what was is it called? Bisexual?”

Billy lets out a deep sigh and shuts his eyes tightly. 

“No.”

“Cool.”

That’s not at all the response he expected. He expected maybe a lukewarm “okay” or “alright”. Definitely didn’t expect “cool”.

“Never met a gay person before.”

Billy can’t remember that word ever being used directed towards him. Only ever got called a faggot. Never just “gay” and especially not kindly. 

“Not surprising.” Billy heaved a sigh. “You’re not planning on blabbing to anyone about this right?”

“No Billy. I’m not an asshole.”

“Good. Because I am an asshole and I just might have to kill you and myself if you told anyone.” Billy pushed Steve playfully. There’s a long beat of silence before anyone speaks again. “I should really be heading home.” He puts his half used blunt into the ashtray, and gets up to leave, grabbing his clothes from where they sit on the floor beside him.

Steve doesn’t protest this time and allows Billy to continue toward the door. Billy pauses just before he gets there.

“Look, Harrington. I just wanted to say that I’m… I feel bad about y’know. Beating you up. I took it too far.”

“Thanks Billy. I had fun tonight. Seriously.” Steve looks down at his feet shyly, clearly avoiding eye contact with Billy. “Maybe we can do this again sometime?”

Billy turns his head towards the door so Steve can’t see him blush. 

“Sure thing, pretty boy.”

———

**July 13th, 1985**

Max was terrified to read further. Just kept reading that last line over and over again. It was so ominous.

_ The worst happened just before we left. _

_ The worst happened just before we left. _

_ The worst happened just before we left. _

She’s terrified because she remembers. She remembers Billy coming home and seeing seemingly his entire body painted in black and blue. She hates to think of how easy it was to convince her that this was a result of a fight he started with some guys from school. She remembers his fists being unmistakably clear of any bruising. 

She’s holding her breath as she continues to read. 

_ I’d taken you to the skate park that day. You were supposed to stay there until I came and got you. That was the agreement. You didn’t listen. You got bored quickly and walked home. You told my dad I ditched you there. So he left to come find me. _

_ He saw something he wasn’t supposed to see. _

_ I really fucking wish you could have just listened to me for once. _

Max can feel her stomach drop when she reads the next line.

_ He found me kissing another guy. _

She had to read that several times for it to actually solidify into her mind what it meant. Billy was gay? It was the only plausible answer.  _ Wow. _

_ I’ll spare you the details. But he nearly killed both of us.  _

_ He moved us out here two weeks later. He thought getting out of California would knock the faggot out of me. _

Max winced at the slur. She doesn’t remember when she started to sob. She could barely continue reading as her tears blurred her vision.

_ I blamed you for everything for a long time. I took my anger out on you. You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry. _

_ I should have been more careful. _

Max cried into her pillow. It was her fault. It was all her fault. She should have just listened. 

_ Dad’s plan didn’t work though.  _

_ Steve Harrington made sure of that. _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changed the chapter count to 15 because that's what it's looking like it's gonna be. I wrote this a while ago and have been going through the story and dissecting it because the first draft was not very good so that's why updates are a little slower than I'd like. But hey! We've finally arrived at harringrove so YAY! 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated! I love reading what you guys have to say <3


	6. Lucas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update. The draft of this chapter was so bad I had to rewrite it. Let's open another letter shall we?

Max doesn’t remember falling asleep. She wakes up with the letter still in her clutches, and a tear soaked pillow beneath her head. As soon as she gets her bearings she can hear Lucas’s voice come over the walkie. 

“Hey Max you there?”

Max has to drag herself out of bed to walk over and grab it. 

“What’s up?” She asks with an airy morning voice. 

“Are we still on for today?”

She forgot they had plans to hang out.

“Yeah yeah. I just woke up. I’ll be there soon.”

“See you soon Max.”

She shut off the walkie and got herself ready. As she brushes her teeth she notices her eyes are still puffy from last night. She splashed cold water on her face in hopes that it will help. She decides to wear Billy’s jacket again. She felt a constant feeling of sickness thinking about the letter. She feels even sicker thinking about the fact that there’s still one more in the stack for her. And what about the ones for the others. She didn’t know Billy at all. The carefully crafted image he’d presented to her over the last four years was beginning to fall apart at the seams. She couldn’t help but feel like somehow she had failed him. She gripped the inside of the pockets and used the jean material to feel close to him again.

She’s just about to leave when the stack of envelopes still sitting on her bed catch her eye. Lucas’s name is staring right at her. She grabbed the stack and shoved them into her pocket, because goddamnit, she was going to make it up to Billy if it was the last thing she’d ever do. She was going to make sure the world knew the real Billy Hargrove.

Max has made it a point to avoid Neil whenever she went out to see Lucas. She remembers back to their conversation with each other when he picked her up from the Snow Ball. 

_ “Listen Max. If you’re that insistent on dating Sinclair, do me a favor and keep it from my Dad. Alright?” _

He never offered an explanation. He didn’t need to. It’s not like Billy ever had to give Max a reason not to like Neil. She never liked Neil. Even before she read the second letter. It wasn’t a surprise that he was a bigot.

Today she’s lucky and manages to slip out the front door without anyone spotting her.

She takes Billy’s Walkman with her to listen to on her way to Lucas’s. She recognizes the heavy guitar and aggressive vocals to be Metallica. She didn’t understand why Billy liked this kind of music before. Now she finds it weirdly cathartic. 

Lucas is waiting for her outside on his porch, like he usually does. Max parks her skateboard next to the front door and follows him inside. Lucas’s room has an array of snack foods laid across the bed, many of them are her favorites. She can’t help but smile at the gesture.

“Will told me that you were still upset about Billy. I’m sorry I haven’t really been there for you like I should.”

Her smile fades to a frown at the mention of Billy. “S’okay. I know you and him weren’t exactly friendly. I didn’t want to burden you.”

Lucas took her hand in his own. Lucas could be really sweet with her when no one else was around to watch. 

“He’s still your brother. You have every right to be sad about losing him. It doesn’t matter how I feel. It matters how you feel and I want you to know you can talk to me if you need to.”

She smiled softly again.

“Okay. Thank you.”

“What do you say we break into these snacks and play some Atari?”

———

As the two are finishing up their third round of combat, Lucas losing as always, Max is reminded of the stack of letters pressing against her side. Lucas said that she could talk to him about it, but did he really mean that? Would he want to hear her defend her brothers honor after everything he did to him? What would he say when she handed him the letter? She doesn’t even know what’s in the letter. She hopes for an apology, but there’s always the possibility it’s something else. Something bad. 

Time runs out on the game and time runs out in Max’s mind as she just blurts it out.

“Billy wrote letters.” 

She says it softly, but loud enough for Lucas to hear her.

“What?”

She bows her head and fiddles with the joystick in her hand. “I found letters in Billy’s room the other day.” She pulls out the stack in her pocket. She starts to tear up as she stares downwardly at the stack, avoiding Lucas’s eyes. “He told me things that I didn’t know. Things I wish I would’ve known.”

“What kind of things?”

She sighs and can feel herself start to tremble. Lucas notices and grounds her with a hand on her shoulder.

“He told me why we left California.”

“I thought you said your step-dad got a promotion out here.”

“That’s not the real reason. He told me…” she couldn’t finish the sentence. She noticed the letter sitting at the bottom of the stack. It was the second letter. Maybe Billy should get to say it. “Just, read this.”

Lucas gave her a weird stare and reluctantly took the letter from her hands. Max tried her best to keep calm while watching him read the letter. Trying to pinpoint exactly what part of the letter Lucas was reading judging by his eye position and facial expression. She watched as his eyes softened midway into the letter, and his nose scrunched towards the end. His final expression when he finally looked back up at max was something unreadable.

“Wow.” Is all he had to say. Which, frankly, was Max’s reaction as well.

Max still stared at him Waiting for him to say something else. Anything else. Something to indicate how he feels about what he just read. 

“This is awful. Has… has his dad ever… to you?”

“No.” 

“Does anyone else know about this?”

“No.”

“Are you okay?”

That’s the question that got her. Her subtle tears turned into outright sobs as she forced out a small “I don’t know.” 

Lucas pulled her into himself and cradled her. Whispering in her ear that everything would be okay. That he’s there. They stay like that until her breathing finally evens out and the tears on her face dry. Lucas doesn’t ask any questions. Just holds onto her and continues to remind her that everything would be okay. That he’s there. 

“So your brother’s gay. That’s a twist.”

The comment makes her let out a quick laugh.

“And apparently him and Steve were a thing. Double twist.” Max replies. Finally with a smile on her face with still red eyes and tear stained cheeks. “We probably shouldn’t tell anyone about that though.”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

“I probably shouldn’t have shown that to you. It was meant to stay private.” Max’s smile fades away at the thought. Not just because she’s outed Billy. But she’s also outed Steve. Billy may have wanted to tell someone, but there’s no telling if Steve shared that sentiment. 

“Max, it’s okay. Friends don’t lie. Sure. But friends keep secrets. Remember?”

“Yeah I remember.”

“So it’ll be okay. God knows we can all keep a secret.” Lucas makes a large gesture with both hands. 

“I seem to remember you telling me about the upside down after what? A week of knowing me?”

“Okay fair enough. But I can keep this one.”

Max smiled and looked back down at her hands. Still clasping the stack of letters. She hesitates before pulling Lucas’s out from the bottom.

“He wrote one to you.”

Lucas looks completely puzzled. “To me?” He questions. “Why would Billy write to me?”

“I don’t know. But he did.”

Lucas reluctantly takes the letter from her hands and opens the envelope. There’s so much caution in his motions. Like he’s disarming a bomb. One wrong move and it will explode and kill everyone in its vicinity. Very unlike Max and her destructive letter opening tactics. Lucas’s envelope remained in one piece. 

Finally, as if an eternity had passed, he removes the letter from its confinement and begins to read.

_ February 5th, 1985 _

_ I’m not a racist. _

Well that was a start.

———

**February 4th, 1985**

“So your sister is in eighth grade?”

“Step sister.” Billy replied bluntly.

“Forgive me. Your  _ step-sister  _ is in eighth grade?”

“Yes.”

“She goes to the middle school?”

Billy crosses his arms. “Is there anywhere else in this shit town she could go?”

“Okay fair enough.” Daisy shoves a french fry into her mouth. “Tell me a little bit about Max. What does she like?”

“She likes to be a pain in my ass.”

Daisy just gives him a glare. One he recognizes as a “come one Billy just give me something to work with here” look. Okay. He’ll give her something.

“She’s a total nerd. Likes to hang out with her nerd friends. She spends a lot of time at the arcade.”

“Does she not like hanging around you?”

“She didn’t for a while.”

He can see her eyebrows furrow. He doesn’t like the way she looks when she’s thinking. When she’s thinking about all the ways to decipher Billy’s words. 

“What happened?”

It’s unspecific, yet he knows exactly what she’s asking him. Billy had yet to unveil how shitty of a person he actually was to her, and now it has reached a point where he’s actually afraid of her reaction. Like it or not, Billy enjoys her company. And if that was going to be taken away it would be on Billy’s terms. He shouldn’t tell her. He really shouldn’t tell her. But his own desire to self sabotage gets the better of him.

“I threatened one of her little friends to stop hanging around her.” 

“And why did you do that?”

“My dad wouldn’t want to see her hanging around a kid like him.”

“A kid like him?” He can see the cogs turning in her brain. 

“Black kid.”

“Oh?” Her eyes widen slightly. But not enough to be considered a look of surprise. It was something else. “Do you think like your father?”

Billy’s brain stalls.  _ Be better  _ keeps chanting in his mind. 

“I am nothing like my father.”

Daisy’s eyes soften from the look of worry that was on her face earlier. That was the look. Worry.

“Have you tried explaining this to Max?”

He had. On the car ride home from the Snow Ball. Although he doesn’t remember the amount of detail he had gone into.

“Sort of.” He offers.

“What about the boy? Have you apologized to him?”

“No.”

“Are you sorry?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” There was that face again. Billy responded this time by staring her down until she could no longer focus on whatever thing she was trying so hard to figure out. It didn’t seem to have that effect.

“You don’t seem too keen on apologies. Maybe you might consider using the stationary I gave you to apologize to him. It might make the thought of actually apologizing to him easier. Maybe you could just give him the letter. Or you can just write it for yourself. All valid options.”

“Hmm.” Is all Billy has to say to that.

\------

_ I’m not a racist. _

_ At least I don’t think I’m a racist. I hope I’m not a racist. It wouldn’t be a surprise if I was considering my upbringing.  _

_ I messed up when I pushed you up against that wall and threatened you. Not just with you but I messed things up with Max. I can see things are starting to turn around, but I’ve lost some trust that I probably won’t ever get back. _

_ I’m sorry for what I did to you. I need you to know that yes, this is because you’re black, but it’s not because I have a problem with that. My dad does. _

_ I need you, for Max’s sake and your own, to be careful. I need you to stay away, if not from Max, then from my father.  _

_ I know all too well what will happen. It happened to someone I loved, although for more reasons than race. _

_ Please keep my sister and yourself safe. _

_ \- Billy _

  
  
  
  


“Holy shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so excited for you all to see what I have coming next for you! Things are starting to pick up speed!


	7. When Monday Rolls Around

“Holy shit.”

“What does it say?” Max asks with a tremor of curiosity.

He quickly hands the note over to Max. It’s a short read, so it takes little time for her eyes to dart back towards him. It’s not the apology that is surprising. She was half sure that’s what the letter would be about. It’s that second to last part. Max doesn’t know what surprised Lucas more. That, or the apology?

“Billy had talked to me about being with you. He told me to keep you away from Neil. He never told me why though.”

“This is really scary Max. Do you think he’d actually do something if he found out we were together?”

Max was stuck. That part failed to cross her mind. Neil was an abusive asshole, sure. But he never laid a hand on her mother or herself. But perhaps that courtesy won’t extend to Lucas.

“I don’t know.”

“He did something to Billy's...  _ boyfriend _ right? Do you remember how bad it was?”

The image of Billy’s bruise covered body floods her mind along with “he nearly killed the both of us” echoing throughout.

“It was really bad.” Is all she can manage.

There was a beat of silence as the two tried to wrap their heads around the whole situation. Lucas broke the silence first.

“Do you think he ever caught Billy and Steve?”

“I really hope not.”

———

**February 18th, 1985**

Steve wasn’t at school the Friday after Valentine’s Day. Billy only knows that because he’d been actively searching him out all day. Wanted to see if he could get under his skin just a little bit. But by the time it hit fifth period and Steve was unmistakably not in his seat, he knew he hadn’t shown. 

It’s not like it wasn’t typical for Steve Harrington to be skipping class. He’d done so quite frequently in the few months Billy Hargrove had known him. Whether it was because he was sick, hungover, or just lazy was lost on him. He hadn’t previously put much thought in what factors kept Steve Harrington outside of the schools walls.

He didn’t really care until then. Because they hooked up and Steve ghosted him. And because it had been a Friday, that meant Billy wouldn’t see him until Monday. And boy that’s not the day of the week he needed that interaction to happen.

Or maybe it was. If it all went to shit, which it most likely would, he could unload all of it onto poor Daisy. The more likely outcome is another day of actively forced silence between the two. But who knows. He continues to surprise himself.

Monday finally rolled around and low and behold, Steve decided to make his appearance. Billy was expecting that when they first made eye contact there would be  _ some _ kind of reaction. But Steve didn’t even flinch. He went about his day without a care in the world. And it didn’t seem to be like he was actively avoiding him either. It made Billy angry.

Billy skipped his meeting with Daisy and let it fester.

And all that build up led to Billy cornering Steve in the locker room after practice. They were alone.

“Where were you Friday?” Billy asked. He had Steve pinned up against the lockers, his face mere inches away with each other’s breath hot on their cheeks. 

“Hungover. Why do you care?”

Fuck. He didn’t-

“You don’t…”  _ remember? _

“What the hell is going on? Can you get the fuck off of me dude?”

Billy stumbles backwards but not before punching the locker just beside Steve’s head. Loud echoes off tile walls making Steve’s ears ring. Billy’s knuckles bled. 

Before Steve can pull himself from the shock Billy’s gone.

And Billy is stumbling through the halls with dripping wet hair with fingers coated in red. As soon as his fist made contact with the locker he was back in the Byers’ house. Just like then he couldn’t breathe. He needed to scream. In his dazed state he somehow found himself stumbling into Daisy’s office where he simply dropped to the floor as she was packing up to leave, and broke.

———

**July 15th, 1985**

It’s Monday.

It’s Billy Hargrove’s Funeral.

And it’s pouring down rain.

And it’s so  _ empty. _

It’s just her, her mother, and Neil, along with the Byers’, the Wheeler’s, the Henderson’s and Steve and Robin. It’s a good amount of people when you forget that none of them are there for Billy. They’re there for Max. 

Lucas isn’t there. They both know why. The only thing she wants right now more than to be holding Lucas’s hand in hers is to be holding Billy’s instead. 

She had to watch as her brothers closed casket was lowered into the ground while her mother shed a few meaningless tears. Neil looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. And everyone else was looking to Max who was completely and utterly numb. 

Having to hear some stranger eulogizing about someone he didn’t know. Saying how he was a great athlete and had good grades, but not much else. Like those things were all he was. No mention of how he had a rough life. No mention of how he was a raging asshole. No mention of how he was still a  _ hero _ . 

Her eyes stayed locked on his headstone.

  
  


_ William N. Hargrove  _

_ May 28th, 1967 - July 4th, 1985 _

  
  


No “beloved son” or “beloved brother” just: William N. Hargrove. A name he despised. 

Billy would have hated all of this.

Max ran off before the casket even hit the ground. Tossing her umbrella to the ground and running through damp grass letting the rain soak her clothes and her skin. Mud filling up her black flats.

She found a tree and climbed it with bare feet. Ignoring the pain at tree bark cut her soles. Snagging her dress on the branches causing rips near the bottom. She had to go up high. Because Billy was going so  _ low. _

She perched herself on a thick branch a good fifteen feet off the ground. Silently hoping it would break beneath her so she wouldn’t have to get down herself. She dangled her now bloody feet and let herself cry. Teardrops masked by falling rain. 

From her Birdseye view she could see everyone start to scramble after her. Completely ignoring the body that was just buried. Even Steve who she’d thought might be feeling some of what she was feeling. Was it wishful thinking that anyone could feel the same pain that she felt? 

She was grateful that people cared about her. But she wanted people to care about Billy too. But no one seemed to. 

Billy had told her once that she made everything about her.

She didn’t see how that was true until today. It’s Billy’s fucking funeral and no one was there for him. And everyone ditched without question because she ran off. The one day that should be about him was made about her and the guilt is eating her alive. 

She really did ruin everything for him.

Steve is eventually the one who finds her up in the tree. She gives him the glare and he says a couple things to Robin before walking over to the tree.

Instead of asking for her to come down he climbs up to meet her. Abandoning his own umbrella and allowing the rain to engulf him as well. He doesn’t climb all the way to meet her, picking a spot in the trees center to stand.

“I told them you probably went home. How about you come back to mine? We don’t have to talk.”

Max reluctantly agrees. She doesn’t want to see anyone right now and her feet are finally starting to sting. She also knows that she has something she needs to do.

“Take me home first. I have to grab something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is shorter than other chapters but you guys deserved an update! Let me know what you think!


	8. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve wants to know what Max is hiding underneath her cardigan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! An update!! Kind of filler, kind of not. Important stuff here I hope you like it!!

Max had crawled in through the window despite her still bloodied feet. Neil and her mother were still in the house making phone calls trying to find her. Too preoccupied to notice the creaking as she forced the old window open, or to hear the sounds of frantic footsteps as she tried to be swift. She quickly grabbed the stack of letters she had hidden with her comics and jumped from the window and ignored the sharp pain as her feet impacted the ground below her. Not bothering to close the window behind her or clean up the little drops of blood and wet footprints that decorated the hard wood floor of her bedroom.

Steve waited in the car, unsure of exactly what his plan was. He just needed Max to hurry up because he did not want to get into it with Neil Hargrove. Max makes her way back to the car, clutching something underneath her cardigan as if she’s protecting it, and doesn’t say a word to Steve. She just buckles her seat belt and keeps her arms crossed and whatever she grabbed concealed. 

Steve said they didn’t have to talk. So he drives.

———

**February 18th, 1985**

“Billy?”

He’s on his knees on the floor. His head in his hands leaving trails of blood along his cheeks, wet hair dripping to the carpet. He’s sobbing and he can’t fucking stop it.  _ It won’t stop.  _ And he can’t even figure out  _ why. _

Steve didn’t remember. So what? If anything that’s the best possible outcome. Billy didn’t have to worry about Steve blabbing if he didn’t even know it happened. But Billy was still in pain. Deep in his chest. He was suffocating and he couldn’t speak and he couldn’t think. What was happening to him?

“Hey hey. Calm down I’m right here. Take a deep breath for me honey.”

Daisy is kneeling on the floor in front of him, her hands resting heavily on his shoulders. She’s speaking to him, but he can’t hear her. He can’t understand what she’s saying. It’s all static. 

This is far more than an overreaction. It makes absolutely no sense. This isn’t Billy. Billy didn’t break down. He pushed it down. All of it. Kept it there and planned to die with it all resting in a pile at the pit of his stomach.

Was this all of that? All of that shit in his pile spewing out of him at full force. All the trauma and abuse and little abandonment issues being released at just the stupid look on Steve’s face. The look that didn’t remember. The look of disgust. 

He didn’t have Steve. Steve wasn’t his.

But fuck, he felt abandoned all over again.

The experience living in his mind and his mind alone. No one to share it with. Not even the one he  _ did  _ share it with. It was lonely and Billy just wanted to scream. Remind Steve of all of it. Make him remember.

But his throat had tightened and his fists clenched and pretty soon he was seeing red and hearing nothing at all. Just white noise.

Was he going crazy? Maybe  _ he _ was the one remembering incorrectly.

But no. That can’t be. Steve’s hand wrapped around his cock, Steve’s cock around his lips, Steve’s lips on his lips… Steve’s smell. The taste of Steve. It all felt way too real to be anything but.

Steve’s borrowed jeans in his hamper confirmed it.

His chest burned.

He wasn’t breathing.

Daisy was telling him to breathe.

But he wasn’t listening.

The white noise took over.

**July 15th, 1985**

Max is sitting on Steve’s counter with her feet dangling over the edge. Her head hung low and her arms still wrapped around her body as Steve cleans the small cuts on her feet. In complete silence. The only noise filling the enclosed space being the sound of heavy rain falling on the roof and hitting the window panes. Peppered in with thunderclaps and the sounds of rustling trees at large gusts of wind. 

The rain made her uneasy. It was raining the day she first saw Billy flayed. The day she was there in the Holloway house with Eleven, powers and all, when she could have stopped him. Stopped  _ it. _ Stopped it from killing Heather’s parents and everyone else who they lost after. Could have saved Billy. And her hair dripping wet coupled with roaring thunder reminded her. Reminded her that if only she had just paid attention. If only she hadn’t walked away and convinced herself it was all a misunderstanding that maybe he’d be here. Alive. 

She should have noticed. When he called her Maxine, he knew she hated when people called her that. And it was one of the few things he actually respected. His whole demeanor was just off. Yet she walked away. 

She walked away.

And the feeling of the rain against her yellow raincoat as she rode her bike back to her house. She feels that now. Except it’s worse. Because now she knows what the outcome was. And she didn’t like it.

Steve is very gentle with her. Cleaning mud and blood off of her feet like he’s polishing the hood of a very expensive car or an antique vase. Careful not to harm or break. And he’s quiet. Wary. He’s been contemplating how or if he’s going to bring up what happened. Because he did say they didn’t have to talk. He just wanted to make sure she was safe. But he could see it was eating her up inside.

And also, he really wanted to fucking know what she had hidden under her cardigan. Why it was so important she risked getting caught by her parents just to get it. So important she felt the need to protect it from the downpour of rain whilst letting the water drench herself.

But he kept his mouth shut. Fumbling through the first aid kit under the kitchen sink looking for the gauze. His soul nearly escapes his body when he hears her voice chime over the consistent sounds of rainfall.

“You know what you’re doing?” She asks.

Steve just stares down at the near empty roll of gauze. 

“Yeah. I’ve done this before.”

**February 18th, 1985**

He’s not sure when he comes to. He didn’t pass out or black out, he remembers all of it. Enough to where the effects of the humiliation creep up in his stomach and make him want to disappear. But his calm down was gradual and he couldn't pinpoint when exactly the white noise faded and he could hear Daisy’s words coming out of her mouth.

But right now she was silent. Wrapping his knuckles in gauze and tape while he sits there on the sofa wrapped up in a blanket. He can see through the gaps in the blinds that the sun is beginning to set. The building is quiet and he doesn’t really have any idea what time it is. Refusing to look at the clock. Knowing no matter how late he was Max still would have walked home by herself, and Neil would be pissed. And all this gauze and tape and the cleaning of his sliced knuckles would just be a waste of everyone’s time.

When his knuckles are wrapped completely and her hands move away from his he gets up to leave. The contact being removed giving him the urge, the  _ need _ to get the fuck out of there. 

But then she puts a hand on his shoulder and gently applies pressure to push him back onto the couch. 

“I’m not comfortable letting you leave until we talk.”

“I thought I made those decisions.”

She takes hold of his wrist that was attached to the bandaged hand, gently, holding it up so it’s in his line of sight. 

“Harming yourself or others, Billy. I don’t want to have to involve anyone else. That’ll only happen if you tell me what’s going on.” She lowered his hand back down and sat back in her chair. “Tell me what happened, from the beginning.”

Billy’s tense. He knew if he wanted to leave that he could. He’s stronger than her, it’s not like she could physically stop him. But he’s glued to his seat. Excusing it as him simply not wanting to get other people involved, despite knowing full well it was a load of bullshit. Maybe he did want to tell her things. Get it out. Share the load with someone else. Someone who would listen. 

But he felt like his tongue was tied. He couldn’t speak, because he didn’t know what he wanted to let out. How much truth he wanted to divulge. 

“I fucked up.”

**July 15th, 1985**

Steve and Max are sitting on the couch on each end completely ignoring each other. Or that’s how it would seem to someone watching them. Max looking away, off into space, playing with her drying hair. Steve fiddling with his hands. The TV is off and the silence in the room would be deafening if each of their thoughts weren’t completely invaded by the other. Steve’s worry building up as the silence extends. Wanting to crack open her tough shell, but refraining for doing so. Refraining from speaking. Because he has to keep her here, and keep her safe. And he knows she’ll run away if he isn’t careful. 

And Max is thinking about Steve. The guy sitting to her left. The guy with the name etched on the backs of two envelopes that sit in her pocket. Envelopes containing letters from the dead teen who once beat him within an inch of his life. The same guy who he apparently became more-than-friends with. The one person at that funeral that  _ might _ be mourning Billy like she did. 

They were alike in that aspect. Both being hurt by Billy, yet having an understanding of him as well. Knowing his outbursts weren’t a reaction of hatred but a misplaced rage and an inability to react to his feelings in any other way but through violence. Because that’s all he had even known.

Max wonders if Steve had known about Neil. She keeps replaying what Steve said back there in the kitchen, wondering if there’s anything to extract from that.

_ “I’ve done this before.” _

It’s innocent enough. But the way he says it. It’s suggestive of more. Something underlying the words so only those who really get it will understand and see the words for what they truly are. 

The letters are burning a hole. And the rain is stilling. A minor pitter patter and no longer the heavy downpour like before. And the silence is becoming unbearable. The elimination of the loudness pouring in from the outside makes the house feel dead. 

Dead. 

And Steve feels like he’s about ready to scream. Demand Max shows him what’s under her sleeve because his brain is about to explode from curiosity. But before he gets the chance to look over at her and open his mouth he can hear the rustling of movement to his right. And when he looks over Max has what looks to be a stack of envelopes sitting in her hands, resting in her lap. Gently rubbing her thumb over the words on the top envelope that he can’t make the words out of from that distance. He refrains from asking her what it is. Easier now that some of the curiosity is relieved.

But still he can feel his heart race in anticipation as he waits for her to say something. Like he can tell she’s about to. 

“I know you dated my brother.” She says it with her head down and completely focused on the paper in her hands.

That entirely catches Steve off guard. Probably the absolute last thing he would have expected to come out of her mouth. And now the curiosity and the need to know is back and strong and she fucking spoke first so they’re talking now. 

“What makes you think that?” It comes out a little harsh and defensive. He’s not entirely sure why he’s protecting himself from her. 

“Billy told me. Well, he wrote it down.” She takes a deep breath and begins pulling two envelopes from out of the stack. “He wrote letters to me before he died.”

Steve is just staring over at her. Holding his breath. Trying to speak. 

“And those are all for you?” He manages to squeeze out. It sounds desperate. Like he’s hoping there’s more. That Billy wrote one to him. 

Max shuffles the two in her hands and passes them over to Steve. “No. He wrote some for others. He wrote you two.”

Steve accepts the letters reluctantly and stares downward at them. Recognizing that handwriting. Unmistakably Billy’s ‘t’s’ with the almost perfectly diagonal crosses. 

And quickly he goes from staring at them to not even being able to look at them. Not being able to touch them like they are hot coals burning his skin. He doesn’t want to know. He can’t know. Because he knows it will hurt him if he does. 

He tosses the letters back to Max.

“I don’t want them.” Is all he says. And Max looks completely confused. 

“I thought you…” her voice tails off. The look on her face full of offense. Like he just rejected her.

Then he takes it a step further. 

“I think it’s time to call your parents.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are appreciated !!


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